Necessity
by kbinnz
Summary: A Federation colony is in distress, and O'Brien is dispatched to assist them. But things are not what they seem, and suddenly the rescue of the colony -- and O'Brien -- is up to Quark.
1. Chapter 1

The _Orinoco_ sat on the launch pad of DS9, powered up and ready to fly. By the open hatch, O'Brien and Sisko stood talking. O'Brien carried a small kitbag over one shoulder and looked uncharacteristically put out, while Sisko's expression was sympathetic.

"What luck. What bloody luck," O'Brien griped.

Sisko patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Chief, but you're the closest person with the necessary expertise. If there were anyone else I could send, I would."

The chief sighed. "I know, Commander. But what are the chances that the colony's power grid would blow the day before Molly's birthday? Keiko and I have been planning the party for weeks!"

"When I spoke with the colony's commander, he said that they've only got a limited technical staff, and by the time they realized that the damage was beyond their ability to repair, they'd already been on reserve power for several days. Their supplies won't last another week. If it weren't so critical, Chief..." Sisko raised his hands helplessly.

O'Brien tried hard to smile. "Ah well, Keiko swore to me that she'd postpone the party until I get back, so I guess there's no harm done."

Sisko wasn't fooled for an instant. "It's not the same, Chief. I missed Jake's eighth birthday because a star unexpectedly went nova and I was sent to deliver a scientific team to study the phenomenon. I'm sorry that you're going through the same thing."

O'Brien sighed. Sisko's empathy made the burden a little easier to bear, and the chief's grumpiness was slowly easing. "Thanks, Commander. I should be back within a few days. You'll remind the major that if her console starts going dim, she should --"

"Yes, Chief. See you in a few days," Sisko hastily replied, all but pushing him onto the ship.

After watching the runabout take off, Sisko headed to Ops. Kira looked up at his entrance. "Has the chief left?"

"Not without trying to give last minute instructions about the care for your console," Sisko grinned.

Kira smiled back, shaking her head. "Are all StarFleet engineers this obsessive?"

"Only the good ones," Sisko replied in mild reproof.

"There's no denying O'Brien's talent, but the man needs to learn to let go!"

Dax joined in, chuckling. "Remember how hard it was to get him to take his last vacation?"

Sisko shuddered at the memory. "I thought we'd have to have Dr. Bashir tranquilize him just to get him onto the runabout! At least this time, he wasn't quite that bad. It only took a few gentle shoves."

Kira looked over Sisko's shoulder to the turbolift, and called out, "Chief! I thought you'd gone!"

The commander flinched in horror, then slowly, reluctantly turned around, already formulating his apology. "Chief, I --"

There was no one there.

He spun back to face Kira, and the grins on her face and Dax's told him that he had fallen for it. With as much dignity as he could muster, he said, "I'm glad you're so easily amused, Major."

Kira's eyes twinkled at him. "I'm sorry, Commander, but I just couldn't resist."

Dax tactfully changed the subject. "Was Miles very upset to be missing Molly's birthday?"

Sisko sighed. "Yes, and who can blame him? This is the worst part of life in Star Fleet: the sacrifices you have to make in your family life."

"But isn't Keiko delaying the party for him?" Kira asked.

"Yes, but..." Dax looked sad. "I remember when one of my -- I mean, Dax's -- children was in a musical recital, and I promised Ennera I'd be there, but -- "

Kira recognized the approach of a long, child-oriented story, and moved quickly to forestall it. "Jadzia, please. It's hard enough to keep track of your previous hosts. Don't make me responsible for their children as well. I'll be happy to take your word for it that O'Brien still has reason to be upset."

Dax shrugged good-naturedly. "At least the party was supposed to be a surprise, so Molly won't have been looking forward to it."

"Yes," Sisko agreed, "and if the party has to be delayed, at least the job which has called the chief away is an easy one. There's nothing too difficult about fixing a power grid, and O'Brien deserves a rest."

Kira returned her attention to her console. "312 is an awfully quiet colony. By the time O'Brien gets back here, a child's birthday party will seem like riotous fun."

Aboard the _Orinoco_, O'Brien was seated at the pilot's position, feeling more philosophical than sulky by then. He understood Sisko's position, but he still missed Molly. Then he brightened; at least he could send her a message. He activated the computer and leaned back in his chair. "Computer, record message: Molly, honey, it's Daddy. I miss you so much already, but I know you're being a good girl and helping Mummy and --"

A noise from the rear of the ship startled him. "What the-- Computer, stop recording." He rose and cautiously moved to the rear of the cabin. Before he could reach it, however, one of the large storage lockers opened and Quark climbed out.

"Quark! What are you doing here?"

Quark calmly brushed himself off, not in the least perturbed by O'Brien's indignation. "I heard you were going to Star Base 312 and decided to tag along."

"What do you think this is, a courier service?" O'Brien demanded, irate. "I've a good mind to turn this thing around and deliver you to Odo! Stowing away aboard a Star Fleet vessel is --"

Quark's sorrowful shaking of his head interrupted him. "And make yourself even later for your little girl's birthday? That wouldn't be very fair to her."

"Don't talk about my family! And don't try any of your tricks with me either. Why would you want to go to Star Base 312? It's just a tiny backwater agricultural colony barely two years old."

"One of my customers gave me a very useful tip: it seems the planet recently discovered a rich deposit of Binterion Root, and since struggling young agricultural colonies are always eager to set up new trade agreements --"

O'Brien shook his head disgustedly. "You decided to cut yourself in on the profits."

Quark shrugged complacently. "And why not? After all, who can provide them with more contacts than I? Why, given my location, poised on the brink of the Gamma Quadrant, yet with easy access to Bajor and --"

"Spare me the sales pitch, Quark." O'Brien turned away and returned to the pilot's seat. "I suppose that short of stuffing you out the airlock I can't get rid of you. Looks like you've cadged yourself a free trip, but you'd better not get in my way, and I'm not going to hang around waiting for you when I'm done, either."

Quark settled comfortably into the adjacent seat. "Naturally, naturally. Like yourself, I've no desire to spend a great deal of time at the Star Base. I had to leave Rom in charge of my bar, so I want to get back as soon as possible."

O'Brien rechecked his instruments. "You must expect to make a bundle at 312 if you're willing to trust your place to Rom. The last time he took over for you, didn't he nearly lose the deed in a crooked dabbo game?"

The Ferengi sighed heavily. "Yes, and the game was rigged in his favor. At least Nog shows more promise. Speaking of children, Chief, I couldn't help overhearing your touching message to your daughter. Doesn't she have a birthday coming up?"

"Yeah," O'Brien answered shortly.

"My holosuites have a program just perfect for children's parties. It --"

O'Brien spun to face him. "Quark, if you make me listen to one more advertisement for those blasted holosuites, I _will _stuff you out the airlock. Now shut up and let me fly this thing. The sooner we reach the base, the sooner I'll get you out of my hair."

Quark subsided, recognizing that O'Brien was not a likely market after all, and the rest of the trip passed in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

When they finally arrived on Starbase 312, O'Brien landed at the indicated coordinates, and the two disembarked to find themselves upon a quiet, bucolic world. Numerous prefabricated buildings were nearby, containing colonist quarters, administrative offices, and the power substations. At the foot of the shuttle ramp a tall man in the uniform of a Star Fleet commander was waiting, flanked on either side by two burly figures, also uniformed.

"Chief O'Brien? I'm Tom Stanton, CO of Star Base 312. Thank you for coming to help us on such short notice." The commander offered his hand to O'Brien.

The chief accepted it. "How d'you do, sir? I'll be glad to do what I can."

Stanton eyed Quark. "When I spoke to your Commander Sisko, he didn't say anything about someone else accompanying you."

O'Brien cleared his throat, embarrassed and irritated that Quark had put him into this position. "This is Quark. He -- well, you see -- "

Quark intervened, seizing Stanton's hand and pumping it vigorously. "Delighted to meet you, Commander. I understand this lovely planet of yours has a wealth of Bintemion Root that you're interested in exporting."

The commander extricated his hand with difficulty. "I wouldn't know. The colonists run their own affairs. My job is merely to act as a liaison with the Federation."

"Oh." Quark immediately lost interest. "Well, in that case, I think I'll stroll around this little Eden of yours and look for a likely entrepreneur." He headed off, looking about with interest.

Stanton watched him go with a frown, and O'Brien hastily interrupted the commander's train of thought. "He won't cause any mischief, Commander," he promised, hoping it would be true. "He's just after an easy profit. You know what the Ferengi are like.

"Mmmm. Yes, I do," Stanton replied meditatively, watching Quark's departure. Then he turned back to O'Brien as though recollecting why he had come. "I imagine you're anxious to see the patient, eh? Come with me and I'll take you to our main power station."

As the two walked away from the shuttle, the large men took up positions guarding the runabout. O'Brien was taken aback. "Commander? What's all that about?"

Stanton shrugged casually. "Oh, nothing. We have some local fauna that get a little too curious sometimes and start chewing on our equipment. I wouldn't want to send you back to DS9 with toothmarks on your ship!"

O'Brien nodded, satisfied, and turned his attention to the matter at hand. "When did the trouble with the power grid start?"

"About four days ago. I don't really understand what happened. As best I can make out, the damned thing just fell apart. Mayva Deann is our chief technician; she's worked with the grid ever since the colony was established, and I imagine that she'll be able to give you a better idea of what went wrong than I can."

O'Brien stopped walking and regarded Stanton with surprise. "To tell you the truth, Commander, I was given the impression that this would be a simple repair, and that you just didn't have anyone who was familiar with the equipment. But if your own tech, who's worked with the grid for the past two years, can't repair it, then I'm not sure how much help I'll be."

Stanton waved a hand reassuringly and urged O'Brien on. "I have every confidence in you, Chief. Remember, Deann is just a civilian, and she hasn't received the kind of extensive training that you have. Oh, she's fine in terms of keeping the thing running, but as soon as there's a hiccup, she's out of her depth. To tell you the truth..."

"Yes, sir?"

Stanton paused, then finally spoke with great reluctance. "Well, recently I've been a little worried about Deann. Her behavior has been somewhat erratic. In fact -- in fact, Chief, I've wondered if she didn't sabotage the grid!"

O'Brien stared at him, shocked. "Do you have any evidence? What could her motive be?"

"If I had proof, I wouldn't be letting her near the thing now! No, it's just a hunch, but you can see why I'm relying more heavily on your diagnosis of the problem. And if you notice anything odd about Deann -- "

"I'll keep my eye on her, sir," O'Brien reassured him.

"Excellent. But be careful, Chief. We can't even begin to guess at her motives, so there's no way of knowing how far she'll go to conceal her activities. If she does anything even remotely suspicious, I want to know about it."

"Yes, sir."

Inside the main power station, the central chamber was filled with an impressively large grid, parts of which were glowing. Panels lined the walls, granting access to the machinery beneath. A woman was working inside one of the panels, but she turned sharply as the men entered.

"Hello, Mayva," Stanton said easily. "This is the Star Fleet engineer I was telling you about."

O'Brien nodded, trying to put her at ease; she was obviously a bundle of nerves. "I'm Miles O'Brien, Ms. Deann. It's nice to meet you. I hope I can lend a hand and help get your grid glowing again."

"Hello," she said uneasily.

"Well, I'll let the two of you get to work," Stanton announced. "Chief, will you join me for dinner tonight? You can fill me in on your progress then, and I'd like to hear about life on DS9."

"Thank you, sir. I'd like that."

"Fine. I'll pick you up here this evening."

After Stanton left, O'Brien turned to Deann. "Well, then, why don't you tell me what went wrong, and we can try to figure out how to fix it?"

She glanced away and shrugged nervously. "It just seemed to go dead."

O'Brien waited, but Deann said nothing more. "Was there any kind of electrical storm? Did one part of it go down before the others? Were any of the failsafes tripped?"

Deann waved one hand vaguely. "I don't think so."

The chief eyed her impatiently. Could _anyone _with engineering training be so inept? Even Bashir was able to offer a better report than that. "You must have _some _idea what happened."

She glanced at him quickly, uncertainty and fear in her eyes. "Something in the circuits, maybe...?"

O'Brien realized with a sigh that Deann was going to be of no use whatever. For all intents and purposes, he was on his own. He opened up his toolkit and turned to the nearest panel. "Let's see what I can find, okay?"

"Okay."

Outside, Quark strolled along a busy roadway, trying to engage the passing colonists in conversation. To his incredulity, they refused to have anything to do with him. "Hello there! Might I have a moment of your ti--"

The woman to whom he was speaking completely ignored him. He set his sights on an approaching man who was carrying a container filled with fresh produce. "Excuse me, what a wonderful basket of fruit! What sort of harvesting equipment do you use? I can get you the latest models at very reasonable prices."

The farmer shoved past. Quark was momentarily stymied, but he was nothing if not persistent. He planted himself in front of the next person, determined not to move. "Hi! I'm from Deep Space Nine, and have I got a business deal for you!"

The couple swept around him without a word. Quark stared after them uncomprehendingly.

Deciding to change tactics, Quark targeted a different clientele. A few minutes walk found him outside a building marked "CLINIC". At his call, a middle-aged woman in a doctor's jacket came to the door. "Hello, Doctor. I'm here to offer you a -- "

"No." She began to close the door, and Quark thrust out a desperate hand.

"But I give you my word as a businessman! I can provide you with medicines at discount rates. Just give me a list of your requirements, and -- "

"_No._" The doctor knocked his hand aside and firmly sealed the door.

Shortly thereafter, Quark stood in front of a storage silo, addressing a group of colonists. "How long has it been since any of you enjoyed a bottle of Romulan ale? Or Saurian brandy? I know what you're thinking: we can't afford such luxuries out here on the frontier. But you can, my friends. I have the honor to represent the Ferengi Beverage Consortium, and I am empowered to offer your colony a share in our cooperative. Just think! All the little niceties you thought you were forced to leave behind, can be yours again! And what's more, the Consortium can also make you very competitive offers on educational supplies and housewares. 'If you've got the money, we've got the goods' is our motto! Now then, who among you will be first to join up?"

The colonists walked away in silence, leaving a baffled and angry Quark in their wake. This was inconceivable!

The Ferengi had one last trick up his sleeve. He waited outside a colonist's residence until he saw the resident come out, then ambushed the unfortunate man. As soon as he saw Quark coming, the colonist attempted to escape back into his home. "Wait!" Quark protested. "Give me a chance! Tell me what you want! If you could have anything in the galaxy delivered to your home, what would it be? No obligation -- I promise. Just a hint: what does the colony need? Agricultural supplies? Recreational diversions? Look, challenge me; I thrive on difficulties. I swear, if I can't get it for you, I'll know someone who can. You'd be amazed at the connections I have. What do you want? Something for yourself? Your wife? The kiddies?"

That was it. The colonist knocked him aside and closed the door. Quark snarled a Ferengi curse and stomped away. Odo was a better market than these people were!

Back at the power station, Stanton had just arrived to to escort O'Brien to dinner. "Ready, Chief?"

"Oh, hello, Commander. Let me just get my things together." O'Brien nodded to Deann. "I think we'll call it a day, Mayva. See you in the morning."

Deann hurried out, avoiding Stanton's gaze. Stanton approached O'Brien and peered over his shoulder as he repacked his tool kit. "Whew! You sure have an assortment of things in there, Chief! Are you planning to rebuild the grid from scratch?"

"I don't think that'll be necessary, sir. Not quite."

"I'm serious. You've got enough spare parts in your kit to put together any number of things. What do you do in your spare time? Build phasers from old rags and leftover _gagh_?"

O'Brien chuckled. "Well now, it's not quite that bad."

"I can see why Sisko has such a high opinion of you, Chief. He told me that you've practically rebuilt DS9 singlehanded."

Acutely embarrassed, O'Brien ducked his head. "Now that's really a bit much, sir!"

"I could use a man like you..." Stanton mused. "But I suppose you wouldn't consider leaving Star Fleet?"

"You mean DS9, sir? No, sir, I wouldn't, but thank you. My wife and I are happily settled, not that this isn't a lovely planet. Keiko, my wife, would love it. She's a botanist, you see."

Stanton led O'Brien out of the power station and towards his quarters. "Is your wife also in Star Fleet?"

"No, one in the family is enough, we've decided. Keiko's strictly a civilian. In addition to her own research, she also serves as the station's schoolteacher -- that is, when she's not kept busy by our own little one."

"You've a child?" Stanton asked curiously.

"Yes, sir, a little girl." O'Brien beamed with pride. "Tomorrow is Molly's birthday. I'm sorry to be missing it. Keiko and I have planned such a party for her -- hats, balloons, cake, the works!"

Stanton smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry that our emergency was so inconveniently timed. But I hope it won't keep you here too long?"

"Well, it took me all of today just to track down the problem. One of the main circuitry paths has been fused. I don't know how it could have happened -- there are multiple failsafes to prevent it -- but I'll have to reconstruct the entire thing from scratch."

"Could it have been sabotage?"

O'Brien looked doubtful. "I suppose so, but if you'll forgive me for saying this, I don't think Deann is capable of that level of sophistication. I mean, this isn't exactly an obvious problem. To destroy the circuits like that, and then cover her tracks... I just can't see it."

Despite O'Brien's assurances, Stanton didn't seem convinced. "Mmmm. How soon can we be back to full power?"

O'Brien thought a moment. "Well, if worst came to worst, I could jury rig something, but that would only be a quick fix, and it'd soon fail. Tomorrow I'll start rebuilding the damaged connections. It'll take a little longer, but it'll be better in the long run."

"If that's what you think is best. I just hate to keep you here longer than absolutely necessary."

O'Brien shook his head. "Oh, there's no question, sir. The other way would just be delaying the inevitable, and I'd have to be back here in no time."

"Well, now that that's settled, tell me about DS9, Chief. What's it like living on the edge of a wormhole?"

O'Brien opened his mouth to reply just as they reached the commander's quarters and went inside.

Several hours later, O'Brien was leaving his dinner engagement when Quark waylaid him outside. "Chief! I've been looking all over for you!"

Unappreciative of this allure, O'Brien continued to walk on. "What?"

"There's something strange going on here. These people are all acting oddly, even for humans!" Quark reported, tugging at his sleeve.

O'Brien pulled free. "Let me guess. You couldn't find anyone gullible enough to go into business with you."

"They wouldn't even listen to what I had to say!"

The chief shrugged. "I don't know, Quark, they sound perfectly normal to me."

"Well, they're not. I know my markets, and out of the way colonies like this are always hungry for trade. If nothing else, it attracts tourists. But these people couldn't care less. I didn't even get invited to dinner!"

"Too bad. Mine was delicious."

"It was odd that I couldn't find the supplier I was told about -- my source is usually very reliable -- but Binderion Root aside, the colonists should _want _to talk to me. I can put them in touch with all sorts of importers -- people who can give them the little niceties so missing on the frontier."

O'Brien was unimpressed. "Did it ever occur to you that some people just aren't interested in the junk you sell? This is a nice agricultural colony -- these people probably chose to come here in order to leave all that stuff behind!"

"Including the newest crop harvesters? Medicines? Educational computers? Not everything I deal in is related to leisure time. But these people weren't interested!" Quark was genuinely mystified as to why his sales pitch had failed so miserably, but -- predictably -- he had an idea how to improve business. "You know, if you were to mention to the commander how useful my wares could be for the colony, and he bought something, I'd be happy to provide you with a commission. You could pick up a nice bit of change --"

O'Brien wheeled about to glare at the Ferengi indignantly. "Forget it! I'm not about to act as your shill. It was your idea to come here, and you've only yourself to blame for your rotten luck." He turned to go.

Quark leapt to forestall his departure. "Er, wait. About sleeping quarters..."

O'Brien took a certain degree of malicious pleasure in informing Quark: "The commander assigned _me _to a very nice room, which is where I'm headed now."

"Oh, really? It sounds very spacious," Quark hinted hopefully.

"Forget it, Quark. Finding a place to stay is your problem. Remember, tagging along was your idea. I'm not about to go out of my way to help a stowaway." He marched off, radiating prim self-righteousness.

Quark glared after him, then headed off to the runabout, muttering dark imprecations.


	3. Chapter 3

At the power station the next day, O'Brien and Deann had spent all morning and half of the afternoon painstakingly reconstructing the necessary part. At last, O'Brien wiped his brow and held up a tiny component. "It's hard to believe that all those hours of work produced nothing more than this one little chip."

Deann looked at him. "I've never seen anyone work so fast, and on unfamiliar equipment too." There was an odd note in her voice, almost one of disappointment.

O'Brien, pleased that the job was nearly done and encouraged by Deann's apparent thawing, explained, "Well, I want to get home in the worst way. My little girl's birthday is today, you see, and my wife and I always make a big fuss." He chuckled ruefully. "We probably get a bigger kick out of the whole thing than Molly does."

Deann looked at him in surprise. "You have a daughter? How old is she?"

"She's turning six."

The colonist's eyes filled up. "That's how old my daughter is."

"Really? I didn't even realize you had a child!" O'Brien exclaimed, delighted to have at last found common ground with the strange tech.

"And two boys. Twins. They're two."

"How do you make time for them? Even with just the one, my wife and I find it difficult!"

"It's not hard. You just..." She broke off, fighting back tears.

Bewildered, O'Brien put a tentative hand on her shoulder. "What is it, Mayva? Are you all right?"

Deann quickly regained her composure and wiped her eyes. "I'm fine. Excuse me. I just -- didn't get much sleep last night."

O'Brien nodded sympathetically. "Probably worried about the grid, right? I get the same way when something on the station doesn't work. Keiko can always tell when a system's malfunctioning, because I sit up all night and fret." He turned to the adjacent panel and placed the new chip inside. "Well, we can guarantee you a good sleep tonight. As soon as we rearrange the power flux, the grid will be up and working."

Deann glanced into the inner workings of the panel, then looked hard at O'Brien. "Are you sure? It will be completely fixed?"

The chief finished installing the chip and crossed to the control panel at the far side of the room. Busy with his work, he was oblivious to the emotions flitting over Deann's face. "What's the matter, Mayva? Don't you trust me?" he asked teasingly.

Deann set her jaw in determination and reached into the panel. "I think this is misaligned."

O'Brien finally turned to look, then yelled in alarm. "What? Mayva! Don't move that!"

It was too late. Deann adjusted something within the panel and a small explosion instantly resulted. The colonist was thrown backwards by the electrical discharge, but immediately sat up, shaken but uninjured.

The panel, however, along with its laboriously crafted chip, continued to spew out smoke, and it was immediately obvious that all of O'Brien's hard work had been undone. O'Brien jerked Deann to her feet, outraged over the waste of his effort.

"What the bloody hell did you think you were doing? All that work out the airlock! If you had the brains of a Tyrellian ground worm, you'd know better than to put an unactivated coupling into the power flow! Where did you get your training? I've known Cardassian commandos who weren't as good at destroying Federation technology as you are!"

"I -- I thought the coupling was askew," Deann offered lamely.

"I _told _you that it would look that way because I had to use a different size casing! I warned you about that at least three times! Weren't you listening?"

"I'm sorry." Deann stared at the floor.

"Sorry? _Sorry?_ You wipe out twelve hours work with one stupid move and all you can say is you're sorry? What am I supposed to tell my daughter? 'Daddy had to work with an idiot'?"

At that moment, Stanton entered the room, and Deann went grey. O'Brien noticed the change in her expression just in time to stop screaming.

Stanton surveyed the room, his calm gaze taking in everything from Deann's ashen countenance to the smoking wall. "Dear me. Is it supposed to be doing that?" he asked, nodding towards the panel.

O'Brien looked away, humiliated. "No, sir. We've had a -- little setback."

The commander gave him a cold stare. "I see. How much of a delay will this cause?"

"At least another day. I -- "

Stanton interrupted, eyeing Deann. "And how did it happen?"

O'Brien opened his mouth to tell the commander exactly what had transpired and to ask -- politely -- for a new assistant, but Deann sent him such a panicked glance of appeal that he couldn't bring himself to lay the blame at her feet. "I -- I must have misjudged the extent of the flaw, Commander. It's obviously a bigger problem than I had initially thought."

"I see." Stanton said skeptically. "I suppose these things happen. But you can fix it? By tomorrow, you said?"

"Yes, sir," O'Brien promised. "Even if I have to work all night, I'll get it done."

"Very well. Carry on." The commander turned to go.

O'Brien called after him. "Oh, Commander, can I use your communications set? I should check in with DS9."

"I'm sorry, Chief, but with power levels this low, I'm forced to restrict communications to emergency use only," Stanton said briskly.

"That's all right then, sir. I'll use the setup in the runabout," the chief replied agreeably.

Stanton tapped his forehead and chuckled at his own forgetfulness. "Oh, did I forget to mention -- the smoke must have distracted me -- Commander Sisko contacted me earlier today. I filled him in on your progress, so there's no need for you to call in."

A little embarrassed at having to admit this, O'Brien explained, "Actually, sir, it was my daughter I'd hoped to reach. Today being her birthday and all..."

"How stupid of me," the commander chided himself. "Sisko gave me a message for you from your wife. Keiko, isn't it?" O'Brien nodded. "She wanted you to know that your daughter is fine and that she loved her party." O'Brien was too taken aback to reply. "So I don't really think you need to spend time trying to get through to the station, Chief. Why don't you just concentrate on getting your work done here? All right?" With a last nod, Stanton exited.

O'Brien was dumbstruck. Keiko had _promised _to wait for him! Dazedly, he turned to Deann. "Mayva, why don't you take a break? It'll take me a while to clear out the debris. You can go home, okay?"

Deann nodded and left. O'Brien sat down, trying to figure out why Keiko would go ahead with the party when she knew how important it was to him that he be there.

After only a few moments, Quark stuck his head inside, and seeing O'Brien was alone, he entered. "I thought those other people would never leave! What are you running here, a social hall?" He sniffed, then noticed the still burning wall. "Or a barbecue?"

"Shut up and get out. I've work to do," O'Brien snarled, taking out his frustrations on the irritating Ferengi.

"But --"

"Get out before I put you through that wall! How many times do I have to tell you I am not going to help you land a trade agreement here? Stop bothering me!" O'Brien shouted, in imminent danger of completely losing his temper.

"I didn't say a word about my contract!" Quark protested, trying to project an air of wounded innocence. "How typically human of you. Always ready to blame a Ferengi for --"

O'Brien turned his back in disgust. "Spare me, Quark."

With a philosophical sigh, Quark got down to business. "Besides, I'm here for your benefit. Haven't you yet figured out that something's wrong with this place?"

"The only thing that's wrong is that I'm stuck on this stupid planet until I get this damned grid fixed, and you keep bothering me!" the chief snapped.

Quark shrugged. "Tell the tech to fix it."

He laughed bitterly. "That tech is worse than useless. If the Cardassians had had a few like her, they'd have won the war. I was this close to being done, Quark, and she demolished it!" He shook his head, muttering more to himself than to Quark. "Maybe Stanton's right and she _is _doing it deliberately. She certainly _acts_ unstable!"

"Don't you notice something odd about Stanton?" Quark asked.

O'Brien got up to go back to work, pushing Quark out of the way as he walked to his tool kit. "Why? Because he's not helping you establish trade relations? Get out so that I can try to fix this thing -- again! -- and maybe I won't miss Molly's seventh birthday party as well."

Quark looked at him in puzzlement. "I thought your wife was going to wait until you returned before having the party."

O'Brien snorted. "So did I."

"Then why --"

"When Commander Sisko talked to Stanton this morning, he sent me a message from Keiko, that the party was wonderful." He looked at Quark; his sense of outrage was so strong that he was even willing to accept sympathy from the Ferengi. "Can you beat that? And after she promised!"

Quark just gazed at him blandly. "Why do you trust Stanton more than your wife?"

"What?" O'Brien was taken aback by the question.

Quark shrugged. "Why do you believe him when he says she went ahead with the party? Isn't it more like her to stand by her word?"

O'Brien blinked, confused. "Well yes, of course, but -- why should Stanton lie?"

"I don't know, but the 27th Rule of Acquisition says, 'Trust, like credit, should be extended to no one.'"

Realizing that Quark had no real proof that Stanton was lying, O'Brien brushed him off impatiently. "You want to know why I believe him? Because he's not a Ferengi, that's why. Because he's a Star Fleet commander, and my superior officer, and there's no conceivable reason why he _should _lie!"

"Well, there's something strange about this colony, and I don't see your Commander Stanton talking about it."

"Listen, Quark, I've got a lot to do, so unless you've got something intelligent to say, get out!"

"Do you know where I slept last night?" Quark asked, abruptly changing the subject.

O'Brien opened a panel and began to work. "No, and I don't care."

"Under a tree!"

Despite himself, O'Brien looked up, startled. "What? You mean, no one would give you a bunk? Well, why didn't you just go back to the runabout and sleep there?"

"I tried. The guard wouldn't let me on."

"Smart guard," O'Brien commented, but all the same, he was a bit perturbed.

"And when I was trying to find a place to sleep," Quark continued, "I noticed an awful lot of forcefields. Why should a peaceful farming community have so many restricted areas?"

"You're jumping at shadows," the chief scoffed. "Restricted areas hold a weird fascination for you. Just stay out of places you don't belong. I'm sure Stanton has a perfectly good reason for putting the forcefields where he has."

Quark snorted scornfully. "You Star Fleet people are so gullible! You'll accept anything you're told! Just because someone in a uniform tells you something, you believe them!"

O'Brien was pretty well fed up with Quark and he felt his temper slipping. "Because I have faith in the uniform, that's why! Now get out of here!"

"Fine! I will!" Quark announced, and he stalked out in a huff.


	4. Chapter 4

At an outbuilding not far from the runabout, an unobtrusive door was visible on one wall. The building seemed to be nothing more than a grain locker, but a forcefield prevented access to it. The area was deserted, except for Quark who was a little too casually checking for passerby. Seeing no one nearby, he sidled up to the door and began working on the forcefield activation panel. From time to time he glanced up to make sure he was unobserved. Unluckily for him, he didn't look quite often enough, and he belatedly realized that two large and unfriendly looking Star Fleet security officers were glaring down at him.

"Heh, heh. Officers!" Quark swallowed. "Would you believe that I sell forcefields like this? I was interested in determining which model you own so that I could offer your commander an attractive price on a new one."

The first guard glanced at his colleague. "Get 'im."

"Wait, wait!" Quark bleated. "There's no reason we can't settle this amongst ourselves! I'm just a simple tourist and --"

"Shut up." He turned to the other guard. "It's been a long time since we got our hands on a Ferengi. This will be fun."

Quark looked from one to the other, beginning to realize that something was amiss. "You _are _Star Fleet officers. Don't you have to swear to use violence only as a last resort?"

The guard shrugged, enjoying Quark's dawning panic. "My oath never mentioned Ferengis. Did yours?" he asked his colleague.

"Nope. Let's get 'im."

The first guard grabbed for Quark, who responded by lunging forwards, hissing. The officer reflexively recoiled, and Quark took advantage of his being off-balance to push him into the other officer. While they struggled to sort themselves out, Quark fled, heading for the power station and O'Brien.

The chase led through the colony, but despite Quark's desperate yells for help, no resident ventured outside. Finally, with the guards mere paces behind him, Quark saw the power station up ahead. Unfortunately, he miscalculated the route and ran down a dead end alley between adjacent buildings. He realized his error and scrambled to turn around, but his pursuers were already at the mouth of the alley.

"Gotcha," said one of them with an unpleasant smile.

The other took an energy knife from his boot and activated the blade. "What do you say we take a little off those lobes?"

They started down the alleyway cautiously, prepared for any sudden move on Quark's part. What they didn't expect, however, was for him to start screaming. Loudly.

"HELP! HELP! CHIEF! ANYBODY! MURDER! FIRE! INCOMING PHOTON TORPEDOES! O'BRIEN! HELP! HELP! HELP! AAAAAAHHHH!"

The guards surged forward to muffle his cries, but by the time they grabbed his twisting form, O'Brien had rushed from the power station, drawn by the noise.

"What's going -- Hey! What are you doing with him?" Catching sight of the two men grappling with the Ferengi, O'Brien ran down the alleyway.

Instantly assessing the relative danger posed by each of the two, the officers threw Quark aside and started for O'Brien. After a stunned moment, the chief wasted no time on small talk.

He braced himself, hoping that his combat skills hadn't atrophied during his peaceful tenures on the _Enterprise_ and DS9. Then they were upon him.

He stepped one side, dodging the first guard's roundhouse swing, and catching his arm, propelled him into the path of the second one. Quark, safely off to one side, shouted useless encouragement to O'Brien and threats at the adversaries. The second officer was knocked into the wall by the impact of his friend, and O'Brien took advantage of the momentary respite to send the first one, whose arm he still held, to the ground head first. He finished the throw just as the second one came off the wall at him, and he met the onslaught with a straight right to the jaw. End result: O'Brien 2, Officers 0.

Breathing hard, O'Brien stared down at the unconscious forms with a mixture of outrage and incredulity. "What kind of security officers _are _you?"

O'Brien was still waiting for a reply a short time later in Stanton's office. Quark stood beside him, while Stanton himself sat behind a desk.

"Naturally I'm shocked at the behavior of my men," Stanton told O'Brien, "and I assure you they'll be severely punished. However, I'd like to suggest that your friend try to stay out of people's way. Ferengi aren't very popular here."

Quark instantly bridled. "An outrageous statement! Ferengi are liked and respected all over the galaxy!"

"Shut up, Quark," O'Brien ordered absently. "Commander, what I don't understand is why no one else got involved in this. Quark was certainly making enough noise when I got to them, and they had already chased him through half the settlement."

Stanton shrugged slightly, obviously not concerned. "As I say, not many people here would choose to assist a Ferengi. These colonists are fairly isolationist."

"That's not the impression I got from Mayva," O'Brien argued. "I mean, she isn't all that friendly, but isolationist? To the point of condoning a racist attack?"

"Deann is unusually liberal."

O'Brien shook his head doggedly. "Yes, but this _is _a Federation colony. I can't believe people could be that cold. It's true that I've been surprised by the lack of friendliness shown, and people are, I don't know, tense -- It just seems like something's wrong."

Stanton rose to his feet and fixed O'Brien with an icy stare. "DS9 must be a very happy place, Chief, if you find 312 so unwelcoming. Just because people choose not to greet you with cheers and garlands is hardly evidence of some conspiracy. And I think you'll find that the Federation permits groups of all different political backgrounds to establish colonies. We're rather open-minded that way. Now, if you're through wasting time with your friend here, I'd appreciate it if you'd devote some attention to the power grid. I'd hate to have to tell Commander Sisko that you showed more interest in the eccentricities of the local populace than in performing the task for which you were summoned."

O'Brien had stiffened into a brace as Stanton spoke. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

Quark and O'Brien left without another word. Once outside and safely clear of the commander's presence, Quark demanded, "_Now _do you believe that something here is strange?"

Unusually silent, O'Brien did not reply. Rather than being quashed by Stanton's rebuke, however, the dressing down had only made his doubts multiply at an even more furious rate. That just _wasn't _the way a Star Fleet commander should behave.

"Well?" the Ferengi demanded. "You must admit that, even for humans, these people are acting oddly!"

"Shut up, Quark. I'm thinking. If you haven't got anything useful to say --"

Quark rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Considering how much you maunder on about your daughter, it's ironic that you haven't noticed that there are no children in this colony."

O'Brien stopped dead. It hadn't occurred to him until Quark said it, but the Ferengi was right. O'Brien hadn't seen a single child on the planet.

"But that's impossible. There _have _to be kids here."

Quark gave him a patronizing smirk, delighted to be able to prove the chief wrong. "Nope. And I've looked. They're always a good market, so I make it a point to find out what the local tykes play with and wear and --"

"And you haven't seen _one_?"

"Nope."

O'Brien snapped his fingers. "Wait a minute. I forgot. I _know _there are kids here. My tech's got three. Come on. We'll find out where she lives and learn what's going on."

In a small living room in a colonist's modest home, Deann and her husband were seated. They spoke in low tones and broke off fearfully when the door signalled. They exchanged a look of despair, then Deann slowly rose to answer it. To her shock, O'Brien and Quark stood upon her threshold.

"Hi, Mayva. This is my -- This is Quark. Could we come in for a second?" O'Brien asked.

She darted a nervous glance past them, then quickly ushered them inside, closing the door with unseemly haste. "My husband Zhou."

"Nice to meet you."

"What are you doing here?"

On the way over, O'Brien had thought of a reasonable cover story. "Quark's got a friend who makes children's toys for export. We were wondering if we could speak to your daughter, find out what she likes to play with?"

Despite his growing suspicions, O'Brien was stunned when Deann burst into tears. Her husband quickly intervened. "I'm sorry. All three children are off-planet visiting their grandparents. Mayva misses them terribly."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry. Maybe there's another family with small children we could talk to?"

Quark leaned forward enticingly. "There's great possibility of profit."

Zhou shook his head firmly. "No, I'm sorry. I don't know of anyone who could help you. Would you excuse us?"

O'Brien and Quark were speedily deposited on the street outside. "That's it. He's lying," O'Brien stated flatly.

"You could tell that the kids aren't at their grandparents?" Quark asked in surprise.

"I don't know _where _the kids are, but there's no way they wouldn't know another family with children. Back on the _Enterprise_, Keiko and I knew every other person on board who had a child close to Molly's age. You just get to meet them."

"So now what? I hope you're not planning to go back to Stanton," Quark exclaimed.

"After that last barrage? Not likely! No, I think the thing to do is to go back to the power station and get to work, only not on the grid."

"You have an idea?"

O'Brien nodded grimly. "As Stanton himself noted, I've got plenty of scrap materials in my kit. I can put together a basic tricorder and scan for the kids. There's got to be a few of them somewhere. Maybe when we find them, we'll discover what's going on here."

Several hours later, well after nightfall, O'Brien and Quark stole quietly through the colony, guided by a jury-rigged tricorder in O'Brien's hand.

"Are we there yet?" Quark whined.

"Ssssssh! I told you: I'm picking up a large group of people, including children, in the building ahead."

"I don't see why you made me come along," Quark complained, casting hunted glances over his shoulder.

"Because I didn't trust you to stay on your own. Now shut up. There's a window over there."

They warily peered inside. The building was obviously intended as some sort of warehouse, with large pieces of machinery and storage tubs of grain scattered about; instead of this benign purpose, however, the building was currently in use as a prison. Several large circular force fields were set up in the center of the room, and inside them huddled large numbers of children along with a group of very frustrated looking adults in Star Fleet uniforms. Several brawny toughs, also in Star Fleet uniforms, stood about on guard duty, along with several more in civilian clothes.

After a long look, O'Brien and Quark slowly sank back out of sight. "What the bloody hell..." O'Brien whispered, utterly bewildered.

Quark was driven beyond endurance by O'Brien's obtuseness. "How can they let you out without a keeper? You mean you _still _haven't figured it out?"

O'Brien's mind was whirling, as he strove to understand what was happening. "I --"

Quark hissed impatiently and explained, using words of one syllable. "The colony has been attacked by raiders. Got it? They must have tricked the colonists and captured the real Star Fleet officers. They've taken the kids hostage to ensure the adults' cooperation."

"Raiders? In this day and age?" O'Brien exclaimed.

Quark waved a testy hand. "This is the frontier, human! Not some cushy system well inside Federation space! Of course there are raiders here! And Stanton must be their leader, though I don't understand why you didn't recognize him as an imposter when you first met him."

"What are you talking about?" O'Brien asked blankly.

"You shook his hand, didn't you?"

"So?" O'Brien still didn't understand.

Quark was appalled. "You mean Star Fleet doesn't have a secret handshake? How do you recognize each other?"

O'Brien blinked. "The uniform --"

"Oh, you people really _are _pathetic," Quark threw up his hands in disgust. "Do you blindly trust everyone you meet, so long as they have comparable fashion sense? It's amazing you've lasted this long!" To himself, he muttered, "It's also amazing we Ferengi haven't been more successful in our dealings with you."

Realizing he would receive nothing but insults, O'Brien ignored Quark and concentrated on figuring out the situation on 312. "But why would they have summoned me?" he wondered aloud.

Quark spoke with exaggerated patience. "Do you think it could be because they need the power grid for something? Or is that too blindingly obvious for your human mind to grasp?"

O'Brien nodded slowly. "If their ship were damaged, they might have landed here in genuine distress..."

"Would they need the power grid to fix their ship?"

That stumped the chief for a moment. "No; with the levels of power they have now, they could probably repair nearly everything but a hull breach. Of course! That must be it! To fuse new panels onto a primary hull, they'd need every meg of energy that this colonial grid can put out. I thought some of the flow patterns looked weird, but if they were planning to refigure the weather control system to use the orbital -- "

"Fine." Quark had no patience for technobabble. "So now we know what they want and who they are. Why are we standing here talking about it? Let's get out of here! Which way to the runabout?"

"We can't just leave these people like this!" O'Brien exclaimed.

"You're right," Quark agreed with him instantly. "You stick around and organize local resistance. I'll take the runabout and summon help."

"Not likely! I'm not about to turn you loose with a Federation runabout."

Quark grinned wickedly. "Why, Chief! Don't you trust me? I could probably find a uniform in my size if that would help."

O'Brien favored him with a withering glare. "No! Besides, you can't fly a runabout."

"You'd be surprised at my many talents," the little Ferengi countered.

"Forget it. We're not going to leave this colony; there's no telling what the raiders might do if they realized we'd learned the truth and escaped."

"At least we know that whatever they might do, they wouldn't be doing it to _us_!" Quark pointed out with unassailable logic.

"We'll go back to Mayva's. They can tell us how we can best rally resistance."

"So in addition to blind trust, we can also add reckless optimism to a list of your qualities?" Quark cooed sarcastically. Dropping the act, he demanded, "Are you _insane_? They didn't exactly help you the last time!"

"Shut up and come along -- unless you'd rather take your chances with the raiders."

That did the trick. Quark followed O'Brien so closely that he seemed more tightly attached than the chief's shadow.

This time, O'Brien and Quark didn't bother to knock at Deann's home. They simply burst inside. "Mayva!"

Deann emerged from the bedroom, pulling a robe over her nightclothes. "Chief, what are you doing here?" she gasped.

"I found the children, Mayva. I know what's going on. I'm here to help."

"You fool!" Deann instantly snapped into a much more intelligent frame than he'd ever seen. "You can't! Don't you understand? If we try anything, they're going to kill the children! Don't you think we've tried to come up with ways of defeating them? In the five days since they first beamed down, that's all anyone has thought of, but it's too risky. We can't jeopardize the children -- or Commander Stanton and the others."

"So this 'Stanton' is --"

"He's their leader. When they first arrived, we thought they were traders who'd gotten caught in an asteroid storm, but before we knew what was going on, they'd snatched the children and placed them in the storage building. At the same time, a second group of pirates got the drop on Commander Stanton and his small staff. The rest of us knew we didn't have a chance. We're simple farmers. We've no weapons, no training, and these raiders are ruthless!"

"Why happened to the grid?"

She dropped into a chair and raked one hand through her disheveled hair. "I was on duty at the power station when the children were taken. I realized that the raiders must need the colony's resources for something, so I short-circuited the grid. As soon as they tried to fuse their hull by routing energy through our weather satellite, the thing crashed."

Despite himself, Quark was impressed at her daring. "You're lucky they didn't kill you on the spot."

She shrugged. "I'd made it look like an accident, so their leader -- whatever his name is -- wasn't sure I was at fault. I acted like I was brain-dead whenever he came around, and he couldn't be sure whether I was genuinely trying to help or not. Besides I was the only one who knew anything about the grid."

"Where do I come in?" O'Brien asked.

"I managed to convince him that I could fix the problem, and that stalled him for several days. I kept hoping that a starship would come by and rescue us; our Stanton had requested one several weeks ago, when we first heard rumors of raiders in nearby systems. No one came, though, and in the end the false Stanton got impatient and called DS9 for help. Your commander had no reason to be suspicious, so he sent you over. I overheard the raiders before you arrived: they plan to kill you as soon as you fix the grid. Then they're going to repair their hull, loot the colony, and take off."

O'Brien's eyes lit up with understanding, then remorse. "That's why you destroyed the system when I was about to fix it! You saved my life -- and I bawled you out for it. I'm sorry, Mayva."

Deann responded with a genuine smile. "That's okay, Miles. Considering how much work you'd put in, you were very restrained."

"Well, the first thing we need to do is contact Star Fleet. Then --"

Deann's husband walked unsteadily out of the bedroom. He looked positively green. "I'm sorry," he said to O'Brien. "I truly am. But I couldn't risk -"

Mayva leapt to her feet. "Zhou, what have you done?"

He swallowed hard. "They told us to call them if --"

"Zhou!"

"I'm thinking of the children, Mayva!" he cried pleadingly.

O'Brien and Quark rushed for the door, but it was too late. "Stanton" and his goons burst into the house, weapons drawn, and the two men had no choice but to surrender.


	5. Chapter 5

The raiders dragged Quark and O'Brien to the local lockup and threw them into a cell. After making sure that the forcefields were all too functional, O'Brien began to pace. Quark preferred to complain.

"I told you this would happen! I told you we should have made for the runabout as soon as we had the chance, but did you listen to me?"

"Shut up."

"Stanton" entered the room, accompanied by several of his men, and gave O'Brien a suave smile.

"You've got a lot of nerve raiding a Federation colony. Star Fleet won't rest until you're tracked down!" O'Brien threatened.

The raider was unimpressed. "They've had little luck thus far. But enough chit chat. I'm rather disappointed that my masquerade didn't work. I thought my commander act was quite good."

"It didn't fool me," Quark boasted.

"Stanton" turned a look of marked distaste in his direction. "You little trolls do have an animal-like cunning. Ah well. It really makes no difference, Chief. I still expect you to fix the grid."

O'Brien's chin tilted defiantly. "Good luck. If you're smart, you'll take the runabout and flee while you've got the chance. Commander Sisko's probably got half the fleet on its way here by now."

"Not at all," the raider corrected. "Just a few hours ago we had a lovely chat. He's pleased that you're proving so helpful, though he did find it necessary to chide me for trying to entice you away."

O'Brien swallowed back his disappointment. "He was just acting. Trying to allay your suspicions."

"Stanton" chuckled. "I'm sure. And even if I did suspect something, Chief, I'd hardly abscond in a Star Fleet vessel. I'd be tracked down in a nanosecond. Why, that's something a Ferengi would do. Besides, I'm not about to abandon my ship. Its cargo holds are filled with the pickings of three settlements -- enough to last me and my crew for a very, very long time. Or less, if we spend it foolishly enough."

"You'd better take your chances with the runabout, because there's no way I'm going to fix the grid for you, and without that power, your ship isn't going anywhere." O'Brien folded his arms across his chest and hoped his voice didn't betray his uneasiness.

"Oh, I think I can change your mind. My crew can be very persuasive," the raider countered lightly.

O'Brien glared at him scornfully, but his heart turned over in his chest. "How do you expect me to repair microcircuitry if I'm beaten to a jelly?"

"Stanton's" eyes widened. "Good heavens, Chief. I would never hurt _you. _As you point out, I need you in good shape."

"Who then? Quark?" He guffawed incredulously. "If you think you can coerce me by threatening him --"

"Hey!" the Ferengi protested in alarm.

The raider captain looked insulted. "Give me a little credit, would you?" He signalled to his men, and a thug entered, bringing in a little girl about Molly's age. "Have you met WenShawn Deann? She has her mother's eyes, don't you think?"

O'Brien went white. "You wouldn't-- "

"Do you need a demonstration?" "Stanton" offered.

"No! Don't hurt her!" O'Brien exclaimed, surging towards the forcefield.

The raider smiled in gratification and triumph. "I'm glad you see it my way. However, much as I need your assistance, I don't think I can trust you around that intriguing little tool kit of yours. We found it back at the power station, and I don't even know what half those things do. So we'll do it this way: from your cell, you are going to instruct Mayva in the grid's repair. Needless to say, if there are any problems or delays, little WenShawn will suffer for your intransigence. Any questions?"

"No," O'Brien surrendered.

"Lovely." He turned to his guard. "Take her out. You, go get Deann and bring her here. It's such a pleasure to work with you, Chief." He nodded cheerfully and departed.

Quark turned to O'Brien with a howl of contempt. "If you fix that grid, we're as good as dead!"

O'Brien spun away in a fury of impotence and frustration. "You heard him! If I don't that child will be -- " He couldn't bring himself to continue, and he sat heavily on the bunk.

Quark gazed at the chief scornfully. "You humans are so sentimental. And letting them get hold of your tool kit? That was bright of you."

"Shut up."

"It's lucky that _one _of us has a functioning neural net." Quark's tone left no doubt as to which of the two he was referring. He moved to the forcefield and took something out of the base of his shoe.

O'Brien sat up. "What are you doing?"

"Arcturan lock-picks." Quark held them up. "I never go anywhere without them.  
Within seconds, he succeeded in lowering the forcefield. With the incredulous O'Brien close behind, Quark exited the cell and cautiously peered out of the room. They could see down a short corridor and into another room in which several raiders sat.

O'Brien glanced back at the cell. "Psst, Quark. Any chance you can use those things to retool the security fields and trap them in there?" At the Ferengi's dubious look, he added persuasively, "It would give us more time to make it to the runabout."

Quark brightened. "I'm glad you finally see reason! Yes, I think I can."

He bent to the task, and within a few moments, a forcefield sprang to life on the far door. The inhabitants immediately jumped up and started shouting, but there was nothing they could do but bluster threateningly.

Untroubled by impotent posturing, Quark spared a moment to gloat. "And you call yourself raiders? Ha! You can't even handle a single Ferengi -- not that we aren't the most clever race in the galaxy. Don't you know there's nothing in the galaxy more treacherous than a cornered Ferengi? We're more dangerous than an entire flotilla of Starfleet ships!"

He turned to see how O'Brien had reacted to the last insult, but to his horror he discovered that O'Brien was nowhere to be seen while "Stanton" and several of his men were heading Quark's way. The Ferengi squeaked in terror and tried to dart away, but the imprisoned raiders shouted to their comrades. His attention caught, "Stanton" spotted Quark.

"They've gotten away! Catch him!"

With half a dozen raiders in pursuit, Quark was speedily recaptured and dragged back to the raiders' leader.

"Where's the chief?" "Stanton" demanded, grabbing Quark painfully by the ear.

"Aaaaaaah!" Quark writhed in agony, but the grip only tightened, and he quickly realized theatrics would backfire. "I don't know!" he whimpered, raising his hands in supplication. "He abandoned me! I swear it!"

The captain shoved him away with a grimace of disgust. "You, keep him in my office until I get back. The rest of you, find the chief! Without him, we're stuck on this rock!"

"Stanton" didn't return to his office for several hours; during that period Quark tried, without success, to ingratiate himself to his guard.

"Heh, heh. You know, I didn't really mean any of those things I said back there. It was all the Chief's idea. He _made_ me say those awful, untrue things. Why, I would never argue with a raider, especially one as successful as you and your friends so obviously are. In fact, I'd be happy to help you. Yes! I bet you aren't getting the best deals you can on some of the merchandise you -- er -- liberate from these colonies. I can put you in touch with people who are, well, stupid is really the only word for them. They overpay outrageously. Not Ferengi, of course, but I've had very profitable dealings with them for years. I personally guarantee every contract! Look, just give me the chance to prove myself. I've got connections you haven't _dreamed_ of! I can give you references, and -- "

"Stanton" entered, and Quark finally fell silent.

"Your friend is proving rather elusive, but at least he hasn't gotten into the runabout or the armory. I have the communicators locked away, so it's only a matter of time before we catch him," he informed Quark, seating himself behind the commander's desk.

"He's no friend of mine. Yich! Bleah! Don't you see how he deserted me? Believe me, if I knew where he was, I'd tell you!"

"Oh, I believe you." Stanton picked lint off his sleeve.

"I advised him to help you, I really did. I said, 'Back a winner. These people clearly know what they're doing.' I told him that --"

"Shut up."

"Of course," Quark agreed quickly. "Whatever you say. I only wanted to explain that --"

"Stanton" idly examined his nails. "I once had the misfortune of doing business with a Ferengi. He tried to cheat me. It gave me great pleasure to sever our relations. And his head."

Quark gulped. "Oh."

The raider turned his gaze upon the Ferengi for the first time. "Now, what shall I do with you?" he inquired conversationally.

"I can be very useful to you. I can make you rich!" Quark promised desperately.

"Oh, that's exactly my plan."

"It is?" Quark asked in surprise.

"Yes. The only question is how many pieces I can get out of you. You're not very large, even for a Ferengi."

"Pieces?" Quark echoed in a tiny voice.

"Yes. It's been quite a while since we tried the old "phony Ferengi" dodge -- selling pieces of anonymous Ferengis as mementos of a famous Nagus. We have difficulty with one of my crew, you see. He likes Ferengi too much."

"He objects to killing us?" Quark guessed hopefully.

"No, just to selling you. He prefers to keep you for himself. Last time we tried this, he ate half the cargo."

"Oh."

"Let me see now... Whom shall you be? Zek?"

Quark shook his head dazedly. "No, don't do Zek. There's something of a glut of him on the market just now."

"How kind of you to tell me. Then I think --"

One of the raiders interrupted, dragging in O'Brien. "Found him making for the runabout."

"Stanton" rose to his feet. "Excellent. Chief, I have quite lost patience with you. Come with me." To his men, he snapped, "Bring the Ferengi and the others."

Moments later, they arrived at the power station -- O'Brien, "Stanton", Quark, Deann, and WenShawn. Two raiders covered the group with their phasers, rendering any attempts at resistance futile.

"Stanton" yanked WenShawn to him. "Chief, if you don't have this grid running within the next few minutes, I'm going to start having fun with this child."

Deann wrung her hands, but with the phasers levelled, there was nothing she could do. "Miles..."

"All right, all right. Don't hurt her," O'Brien pleaded. He moved over to the grid and started working.

"Don't do it! He'll kill us the second you're through!" Quark argued.

At the captain's signal, one of the guards grabbed him by the throat. "I'll kill _you _here and now if you don't shut up," "Stanton" vowed.

Quark lapsed into silence, and all too quickly O'Brien closed the panel.

"It's fixed."

The raider didn't move. "Very nice. Would you power up the grid for me? Just to demonstrate that there are no nasty booby traps? I'd hate to have to bother Commander Sisko for a second engineer."

With a look of resignation, O'Brien hit the switch and the entire grid hummed to life with glowing lines. Deann let out a cry of defeat, while Quark cursed. "Nice work, Chief," he snarled.

"Stanton" beamed in delight. "Very nice indeed!"

O'Brien smiled at "Stanton". "And now I'd advise you to surrender."

The raider laughed. "You do have spirit _and _a sense of humor. I'm going to miss you, Chief."

Still smiling, O'Brien started walking towards "Stanton". "I mean it. This is your last chance."  
"Stanton" stared at him incredulously, then aimed his weapon at O'Brien. O'Brien kept coming. "Stanton" pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

O'Brien reached the dumbfounded man's side and gently pushed WenShawn aside. "When I got free, I came straight here and reconfigured the system to put out an EM damping duonic field. Nothing works, including your weapons."

And he decked "Stanton" before the raider could recover.

The other two goons belatedly lurched into action, but Deann recovered first and dispatched the one close to her by driving her elbow into his midriff, then kneeing him in the head when he doubled over. The other thug grabbed for WenShawn, but Quark intervened, snatching her aside with a hiss. By then, O'Brien had finished off "Stanton", and he and Deann made short work of the second one.

After that, it was all over but the mopping up -- and, of course, the thanks. When O'Brien and Quark were ready to leave, the entire colony gathered at the runabout to see them off.

"I don't know how to thank you, Chief," the real Commander Stanton said, shaking O'Brien's hand. "Those raiders took us completely by surprise. Their leader is a consummate actor, and his crew is well-trained and brutal. I doubt we'll ever learn the true extent of their depradations. If it hadn't been for your brilliant idea..."

"I'm just glad that you acted so quickly once the forcefields went down, Commander. I planned things so that a few of the raiders, including their leader, would be with me when the duonic field came on, but there was no way to get all of them in one place. If you'd given the others time to get to the children, even without their weapons they could have been dangerous. I'm glad your staff caught on so fast."

"Are you joking?" Stanton laughed. "We'd been watching and praying for that damn forcefield to fall for five days! It was like a gift from above."

Quark cleared his throat meaningfully, and O'Brien sighed, but he was forced to give the Ferengi his due. "Of course, if Quark hadn't kept the raiders occupied while I was working at the power station, I'd never have been able to get the grid reconfigured," O'Brien said dutifully.

Quark coughed again, and O'Brien reluctantly added: "And it _was _Quark who first warned me that something was amiss."

Stanton shook his head with a smile. "It's not every Star Fleet base that gets saved by a Ferengi. We're very grateful, Quark. I'll mention this to Star Fleet Command, and I wouldn't be surprised if a reward were forthcoming."

Quark beamed.

Zhou spoke up, shamefaced. "I'd like to apologize again, Chief. I -- I just was so --"

O'Brien gripped his shoulder. "Don't give it another thought. I know how you must have felt. If it had been my daughter - well, I don't know what _I_ would have done had the tables been turned."

"We're all terribly sorry that we didn't tell you what was going on, but before you arrived, they had threatened the most horrific things if we spoke to you."

"Really, I understand," O'Brien assured him.

Zhou turned to the Ferengi, waiting expectantly at O'Brien's side. "Quark, I hope that our contract with you has made up -- at least in part -- for the dangers you faced. We at Star Base 312 owe you a great debt for the role you played in our rescue. By releasing Chief O'Brien from that cell, you made it possible for him to save us."

Quark patted the contract in his pocket with great satisfaction. "Well, let's consider this a start. As you say, it _is _a great debt, but I --"

O'Brien interrupted what was sure to be a long speech by grabbing Quark and hauling him onto the runabout. "He's overcome with emotion. Good bye!'

Quark's querulous voice could still be heard over the closing of the hatch. "What about my medal? Don't I get a medal? I want one made of latinum!"

The return trip to DS9 was speedy and uneventful, but O'Brien was taken aback to find Sisko and Odo waiting for him when the runabout landed. "Commander, is something wrong? Is it the major's console?"

Sisko laughed and shook his head. "Welcome home, Chief! I understand you had quite an adventure. I just finished speaking with the real Commander Stanton. He's quite a fan of yours."

Understanding dawned, and O'Brien blushed, embarrassed. "It was pure luck, Commander. I just remembered our experiences near Aurelius Minor and tried to rig the same kind of low-level duonic field. If it hadn't worked, I don't know _what_ I would have done. Many's the time I wished you were there with me on 312!" Sisko handed him a paper. "What's this?"

"A copy of the commendation I just entered into your file. Commander Stanton is entering another."

O'Brien's jaw dropped. "But -- I didn't expect -- Well -- well, thank you!"

Sisko took a birthday hat out of his pocket and fastened it around O'Brien's chin, halting further expressions of gratitude. "And this is for Molly's party. You'd better hurry; it's about to begin."

O'Brien's smile was dazzling. "Thanks, Commander!"

He started to hurry off, but his attention was caught by the following exchange.

Quark grinned up at Odo. "What about me, Odo? Have you heard about my daring exploits in rescuing that colony?"

"Why don't you come along to my office and tell me about it? I have a very nice cell just waiting for you," Odo purred, taking him by the arm.

Quark's face twisted into an expression of suspicion. "What are you talking about? I'm a hero!"

"No, you're a stowaway," the Constable corrected.

"What? Odo! You can't do this to me! Stop!"

"Er, Odo..." O'Brien stepped forward diffidently.

The shapeshifter turned to him in surprise. "Yes, Chief?"

Sisko watched, equally startled by O'Brien's interference.

"I, uh, I invited Quark along."

"You _did_?" Odo and Sisko asked in unison. Their incredulous expressions made it clear that O'Brien's fib had fooled no one.

"Yes. I didn't think you'd mind, Commander." O'Brien persisted in the fiction, despite its obvious lack of success.

Sisko, although amazed by O'Brien's covering for Quark, was not about to accuse a just-decorated, valuable member of his staff of lying. "Well, no, Chief, I suppose it's all right..."

Odo reluctantly relinquished his hold on Quark. "If you say so..."

Quark haughtily brushed himself off and marched after O'Brien. Sisko and Odo stared after them as their voices floated back to the landing pad.

"You know it's not too late to decide that you want to rent a holosuite for the party, Chief. I can offer you a special discount," Quark offered hopefully.

"Shut up, Quark," O'Brien said wearily.

"No, listen: 10 off! You won't find better than that. I don't give that large a discount to my own brother!"

"You don't _like_ your brother. I said no! Now forget it."

Their bickering slowly faded with distance.

THE END


End file.
